Magnetic North
by bornonhalloween
Summary: Edward Cullen's summer job working the Island Queen from Cape Cod to Martha's Vineyard with his fraternity brothers would have been perfect—if not for his tendency toward seasickness and the beautiful passenger shrouded in mystery. Can he work up the courage to say hello before he loses her forever? E/B, all human, rated T for sweet innocence.


****MAGNETIC NORTH****

The third figure eight in my cleat hitch knot wasn't really about tying the ferry to the dock, but yanking on the rope made me feel better. This one tiny thing I could control—not the choppy ocean between Woods Hole and Oak Bluffs, not the stench of seasick splatter staining my shorts, and most frustrating of all, not the girl shuffling down the gangway and slipping through my fingers yet again, most likely for the last time.

It was probably merciful this was our last day on the job; I really wasn't sure how much more of this torture I could take. If only I could have looped the rope around her waist, then mine, then hers, then mine ...sigh.

A firm clap on my back knocked me right off my squat, nearly sending me face-first into the harbor. "Man, you stink!"

"Fuck you, Jazz," I shot back. "Twenty-three barf bags today, but who's counting?"

"That's a shitload of puke!"

"Easy for you to say, tucked away under your little captain's hat, swiveling around on your white leather, junior captain's chair in your climate-controlled cabin, far from the puking masses. Thanks for the roller coaster ride today, by the way. Really fucking enjoyed that."

"Sorry, dude. Mother Nature is a raging bitch sometimes. We did our best." To be fair, Jasper tried to bite back his smile, but he just couldn't resist asking, "How many of those bags belonged to you?"

"Fuck you ..._again._ Three."

"Jesus, that is hideous. You were doing so much better for a while. You really should've tried the patch. My mom used to—"

I clapped a hand over his runaway mouth. "Seriously, Jazz, I am so not in the mood to add your verbal diarrhea to the heap of bodily fluids I had to deal with today. I don't want to hear about your fucking patch or your f—" _No, I would never go there, not about somebody's mother—"o_r your mom. Got it, sailor?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever."

We'd been over this a million times. The supposed "dream job" my fraternity brother had landed for all three of us—except I was the one scrubbing the head while Emmett tended bar and Mr. Newport steered the boat—would've still been fine if I hadn't discovered one hour into the job that the open sea was my own, personal, foolproof vomit-trigger.

Dramamine only worked if I took enough to knock me out, and funny thing about our boss—he tended to prefer us awake on the job. Nausea was unpleasant, but it passed, one way or another. On the off chance I could ever get ferry girl to talk to me, I sure as fuck would not be sporting a pussy patch behind my ear.

"Ready to hit the beach? _Christ_, Cullen, your eau de puke is particularly toxic today!" I glared at the incredible hulk blocking the gangway with his bike. Emmett raised one of his tree-trunk arms to pinch his nose. "Upwind, man! How many times I gotta tell you? Stay upwind of the erfers!"

Before I could form the words, Jazz did it for me. "Fuck you, Emmett!"

Jasper grinned, and I tipped the visor of my Steamship Authority cap. Jasper had a way of getting to the heart of the matter like no other, which was probably why I'd glommed onto him in freshman psychology and never let go. He could get a bit gushy at times with his feelings, but after two years as his housemate, I was getting used to it.

Rolling his eyes, Emmett looked back and forth between us and shrugged his massive shoulders. "Whatever. I've got a case of Bud and a six-pack of weeklies waiting for me at Katama. Cullen, I strongly suggest a shower, or at a minimum, an intimate encounter with a garden hose!"

"Thanks for the great advice, Bluto."

"Bluto, huh? Nice one, Pre-spinach Popeye!"

"Hey! C'mon, you two," Jasper cut in, "it's our last day on the job. Can we maybe move this cartoon feud off the dock before the captain hears?"

Emmett rapped Jazz on the back of the head and batted his eyelashes. "Sure thing, Olive Oyl."

"Nuh-uh," Jazz answered with a violent shake of his head. "I am not doing this. No way. No."

"No? How about Cap'n Crunch? Is that better? Captain Hook, maybe? Oh wait, that would make Edward Tinkerbell! Perfect!"

Jasper moaned and gave Emmett a shove toward the parking lot while the two of us unhitched our bikes from the rack. By the time our wheels hit the pavement, Emmett was mounted, helmeted, and ready to roll. "I'll let you ladies duke it out for my draft."

Jazz won, partly because it wasn't fair to put anyone downwind of my stench, but mostly because I didn't want the relief Emmett's powerful draft would provide. I wanted to pound ferry girl out of my head and out of my heart and try to enjoy one damn day on the island without the will-she-or-won't-she mind-fuck soundtrack of my summer.

**^MAGNETIC NORTH^**

The Vineyard's flat terrain didn't offer much of a challenge for bikers, but while we lacked incline, we punished ourselves with pace. The man up front had immense thighs, and somehow, that brick of a body managed to bend the wind to its will. Even without Emmett's drag, Jazz was no slouch, a three-season athlete in high school who had narrowed it down to Division III lacrosse when Williams College recruited him. After my morning of purging, I had just enough energy to keep up with the two of them and no brain cells to spare for thinking. _Exactly the way I wanted it._

By the time we clicked out of our pedals on South Beach, I was ready for a swim and a nap. Normally, I would've hiked the five hundred yards to the facilities, such as they were, to change into my swim trunks. All things considered, taking my smelly clothes for a thorough dunk seemed to be an excellent solution. As violently ill as I regularly got on top of the water, I could happily spend hours swimming. Pulling in one long, last breath, I dove under the first rolling whitecap, cutting through the thick, salty water while stubborn strands of seaweed hooked around my fingers and lodged in my hair. My legs, weary from the ride, kicked out behind me. The resistance of the cool ocean was minimal compared to the tension on the bike. It felt good.

About twenty yards away from shore, I surfaced and swam toward the buoys. Out here, where the only noises were the gentle roll of the surf and the occasional screech of a gull, my head cleared of all the non-essentials, leaving me alone with the painful realization that I had all but blown my chances of ever meeting this girl who had become my summer obsession.

Every detail I knew about her was pieced together from the ferry trips: she always sat on the top deck, facing the stern, always surrendered her long, brown hair to the will of the wind. She never ate or drank anything but the Poland Spring water she brought with her, never listened to music, never read a book or a Kindle or a phone, just stared out at the water and occasionally closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

I never saw her smile. Maybe that's what finally drove me to distraction—this outrageously selfish desire to be the one to make her smile, or even better, to make her laugh. It wasn't as if I had that talent; that was Emmett's gift. He could've had her laughing in a second. Thank God she wasn't his type, i.e. blonde and big-boobed, nor did she visit the bar downstairs, so I was spared that particular misery.

_Yay me! One down, the rest of mankind to go._

Or maybe womankind, because how the hell did I know her preferences?

I knew nothing, not even which port she called home. Her schedule was erratic. Sometimes three nights on the Cape would follow one on the Vineyard; other times, just the opposite. My body compass began to reset itself based on whether she was on- or off-island. Magnetic north moved for a girl whose name I might never know.

Not knowing if or when I'd see her again was even more frustrating than the fact I hadn't manned up and said hello. Eight excruciating weeks of pathetic, unproductive crushing. Miraculously, I hadn't drawn Jasper or Emmett's suspicion—small consolation, at least.

"Yo! Popeye! Get your puke-ass out of the water! We need you on our volleyball team!"

So much for my nap.

The game did distract me for a bit, though, which is probably more than I could say for falling asleep on the beach and being alone with my dreams. I'd had far too many dreams of ferry girl to count. Every damn time, I would wake up just as she was about to say hello.

_What the actual fuck? _What happened to good old-fashioned wet dreams? I was twenty! I should be dreaming about blowjobs and fucking and tits. Even my dreams were pathetic.

The only good thing about this day was that it was almost over. Back in our little hovel in Falmouth, my shit was packed up and ready to go. I was so fucking done with this bullshit summer, it wasn't even funny. Three more trips on the barge of barf, and this would all be behind me.

I jammed my soaked, briny clothes into my backpack and changed into my uniform for the last time. The only mystery left in my day would be which of my internal organs would be clenching harder for the next three hours—my stomach or my heart.

**^MAGNETIC NORTH^**

Oh, how I would miss cleaning the head...

_Next summer, I am backpacking through Europe._

Face in the shitter, scrubbing the silver bowl until it sparkled...

_Barcelona is supposed to be cool._

Mopping between the cracks in the rusty grout...

_Clubs. Gelato. French girls._

Stacking spare toilet paper rolls so I wouldn't have to go "below"—a.k.a. the sweaty armpit of the boat—every fifteen minutes...

_Definitely going to Amsterdam._

"Psst! Popeye!" Emmett stepped inside the tiny, stale room, leaving exactly zero oxygen for me.

"Stop fucking calling me that, Emmett! It's not funny anymore." Actually, I couldn't think of anything that would have amused me right now. "What do you want? I'm kind of busy here, and this isn't exactly a two-seater."

"Whoa. Sorry, man."

Yep, that was definitely pity in his eyes.

"Jazz and I need to talk to you." Emmett's chin made a weird twist, and Jasper appeared in the doorway behind him with a soft, "Hey."

I stood up and tossed the rag into the sink. "What the hell is going on? You guys are freaking me out."

Jazz made an attempt to push Emmett aside, but ended up just peering over the mound of his shoulder. "She's booked on the 6:15."

My gut twisted. _Ferry girl._ Fate or karma or someone with a really fucking sick sense of humor "up there" was giving me one last chance to not be a pussy.

_And my friends knew, had probably known since the first damn trip and hadn't teased me once all summer. Fuck, they must really feel sorry for my ass._

I bought myself some time, methodically gathering up my cleaning supplies while my brain dealt with the adrenaline coursing through my system.

_Ferry girl. Ferry girl was booked..._

"Wait a second! You know her name!"

Jazz gave Emmett a _told-ya_ nod, tossing the ball into his court.

"We dug a little."

"You dug? What the hell does that mean?" I couldn't have said if I was angrier at their interference or the fact that they officially knew more about her than I did.

Jasper shrank back a bit, using Emmett's muscle mass to deflect my wrath. It wasn't working.

"Look, Edward," Emmett started in that voice I'd heard him use with overly inebriated customers, "we've seen you watching her...and we wanted to help."

Rage burst to the surface. "What have you two done?"

"Nothing!" Jasper shoved Emmett off balance and squeezed through the tiny opening to put his hands on my shoulders. "We haven't done anything more than compare the manifests to figure out her name. It wasn't that hard to narrow it down."

"What's her name?" Oh, I'd had my fantasies. It would be something flowy and romantic. _Giovanna_. _Juliette. Tatiana. Cassandra. Scarlett. Tess._

"You need to ask her yourself."

"You suck, Jazz. You know that?"

I glanced at Emmett, but all I got was a slow swallow followed by a sad headshake. Jasper's hands tightened on my arms, drawing my focus back to his we're-doing-this-for-you face. "_When_ you talk to her today, you need to not know her name. Do you want her to know you were stalking her?"

"I wasn't stalking her! You were!" _Fuck. I hated when they were right. _"How long have you known she'd be on the 6:15?" Ugh, the round-trip days were always the hardest. Her eyes would take on this haunted, lost quality. Those were the times it was hardest for me to avoid her.

Again they traded looks before Jasper answered. "Since yesterday."

My skin prickled with the effort of containing the storm brewing inside me. I was furious. I was hurt. I was mortified. And I couldn't deny it; I was petrified.

All day—no, scratch that—all _summer, _I'd berated myself. Now that I knew I had exactly one more chance, there was literally nothing to lose—unless I counted the small comfort that she hadn't rejected me yet.

So that's what it came down to: holding onto that useless scrap of dignity versus taking a chance at something and at least not having to regret it for the rest of my life. Naturally, when faced with that dilemma, I did what any guy in my position would do: I lashed out at my friends.

"You didn't think to tell me any of this until now?"

Jasper gave Emmett an elbow jab to the gut. After shooting him a what-the-fuck, Emmett answered. "We thought you'd be a basket case all day. We wanted you to enjoy your last day on the island...and not drive us nuts," he added, because he was Emmett.

"Seems like you had a good time at the beach," Jazz added. The two of them stood there nodding at me like a couple of idiots.

"Then, why tell me now, huh? I mean, in a few minutes, the passengers are going to be lining up to board. It's not like I wouldn't have noticed her presence!"

Emmett stepped up into my face, batting Jasper away with a casual swipe of his hand. "We wanted you to have a chance to pull your shit together before you talk to her."

"How do you know I'm going to talk to her?" My voice was shaking, and I knew they could hear it too.

"Because if you don't," Emmett started, "I am going to drag your ass over there and make you."

A strangled groan escaped me. Emmett was not fucking around, and Jazz added his support with a firm nod. "We love you, and we're not about to let you play the what-if game on this one. It's too damn important."

I couldn't think of a proper way to express my gratitude, so I settled on, "Fuck you both." Parting their bodies with a perfect breast stroke, I escaped before the hot sting in my eyes turned into tears.

**^MAGNETIC NORTH^**

I made myself scarce while the passengers were loading, hiding on the bow while my panic rose faster than the tide. In case the captain happened to look over, I hopped around like a kangaroo on speed, polishing up the brass handrails and recoiling piles of rope until my hands were raw. There was never a shortage of things to clean or tighten on a boat; busy work was infinite—not something I'd miss after tonight's voyages were behind me. Still, there couldn't have been enough to distract me from the reality: I was about to meet my ferry girl.

Emmett had left no room for procrastination. He'd be checking on us at 6:35, and if my "jaws weren't yapping in her vicinity by the time we hit open waters," he'd solve the problem for me. _Excellent._

I washed and dried my hands for the fortieth time; popped in two of my emergency breath savers; smoothed my polo and retucked it behind my belt; pushed the barf bags and Purell deeper into my pockets; sucked in a deep breath and let it go; ordered my feet to move and repeated the order when they didn't.

I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself as I approached her from behind. It was a sundress day, my favorite kind of day, especially when the breeze kicked up over the ocean. Thanks to the gathering weather, that was exactly the case as my right foot planted next to her plastic seat. The edge of her dress fluttered in the wind, exposing the tiniest hint of white cotton deep in the crevice between her legs—deeper than I had a right to look.

My moment of distraction collided with an unexpected lurch of the ferry, tossing me off balance and landing me flat on my ass in front of ferry girl.

"Oh my god! Are you all right?" She hopped off her seat and squatted in front of me.

I shouldn't have looked down her dress any more than I should've looked up it, but her neck was exactly at eye level and the good stuff was an easy downhill glance from there. Honestly, it would have been rude _not_ to look. I'd seen plenty of tits up close, but ferry girl's were another species—full and tan and so goddamn inviting...with nipples so tight I could have reached out and plucked them like grapes off the vine.

"Hey, should I get help?" Her fingers were snapping in my face, and that's when my manners had the good sense to join the party.

"No, I'm good."

She moved her hand away, revealing the most beautiful pink-lipped pout I'd ever seen. "You sure? You seem kind of out of it."

I was starting to feel like a bug on a glass slide the way her eyes were checking me out. _Holy shit, her eyes!_ They were the one part of her I'd never been able to sneak a peek at. Dark amber lined the edges while bright green flecks shot out from the pupil. Even through my Ray-Bans, they looked like tiny starbursts lighting up the night sky.

To make matters even more excruciating, I could smell her now. _She bathes in brown sugar,_ my dick concluded as it roared to life.

"Can you get it up?"

"What?"

She reached out her hand. "I said, 'Can you get up?'"

"Oh ...yeah, I think so." Worst case scenario, I'd pull her down into my lap, and that didn't seem so bad—until I remembered my happy-pants.

I took her hand inside mine, and she gave me a surprisingly powerful tug, yanking me to my feet. The top of her head barely reached my chin, but she was clearly stronger than she looked.

Emmett chose that moment to appear in the stairwell behind ferry girl's back. Seeing the two of us locked hand-in-hand and toe-to-toe, he gave me a goofy grin and a thumbs up, turned tail, and headed back to the bar.

Another wave rocked the deck, and I lost my footing for a second. She tightened her grip on my hand and grasped my waist. "Maybe we should sit down. Are you allowed?"

Her question threw me for a second until I remembered I was wearing a uniform. "Sure." I was ridiculously disappointed when she pulled her hand away. "Um, maybe, just in case..." I dug into my front pocket and pulled out one of the white bags, opening it with a flick of my wrist and handing it to her, "can you make it look like..."

Genius idea.

"I'm seasick?"

I was waiting for her to throw the bag in my face and tell me to go fall on someone else, but instead, she bent forward and stuck her face in the bag. I was in love.

"Am I doing it right?" She tipped her head so she could see me, and there was nothing I could do but laugh.

"Yep, I think there's a future for you in this."

"Why, thank you." Her voice was a muffled echo. "How long do you need me to stay like this?"

I reached over and took the bag. "I think that's enough." Seriously, what were they gonna do, fire me?

I stretched my legs out, crossed my ankles, and settled into the plastic chair. I liked how we were sort of connected by the frame, and I liked even more that there was nobody else in our row of four. We watched the two sides of the gigantic white foam zipper come back together behind the boat while I held her in my peripheral vision with all my might.

"Peaceful, isn't it?"

Her tone made me turn, which was a terrible idea. Not just because tiny droplets of ocean had settled in her eyelashes and on her cheeks, begging to be licked off—which I sensed would not be a welcome gesture—but because the motion of turning my head sideways while riding backwards brought on an overpowering wave of nausea.

"Uh-oh." _Get up. Step away from ferry girl before it's too late._

It was already too late. I was in full-on cold sweat, and my salivary glands were releasing their distress signal. _Mayday! Mayday! _Standing up now would only increase my chances of missing the bag. I was fucked.

"What's wrong?"

I could only answer by bending forward, nose and mouth in the bag, bag between my knees. I didn't even have time to warn her away before the burning bile barreled through my throat. My pity party was in full swing as my guts spurted into the bag. I imagined ferry girl's beautiful face twisted with disgust.

I retched and hurled and retched some more, until all that was left were dry heaving spasms and dejection...and a hand rubbing my back?

I closed off the puke bag and set it down between my feet. My elbows dropped to my knees, and I closed my eyes and relaxed into the comforting circles her palm was making on my back. The salty air cooled my sweat-lined forehead, and a miraculous calm eased my stomach.

Her hand ventured higher, riding up the damp shirt on my back. I held my breath as her fingers reached the edge of my collar and paused. "Sorry—reflex, I guess," she mumbled.

I cleared the gunk out of my throat and mumbled back. "It's nice. Thanks."

A little bolder, she grazed the bare skin of my neck with her fingertips. "Is this all right?"

"Mmmm." My head fell forward like a boulder. "It's heaven."

I prayed she wouldn't stop, even as this felt entirely wrong. How was she not repulsed? Where did this angel come from? I rocked gently with the press and pull of her fingers, finally tipping my head to the side to watch her sweet face.

Without slowing her stroke, she asked, "What?"

If she didn't know this was weird, I wasn't going to break the news. "What's your name?"

"Bella. What's yours?"

"Edward. Are you a nurse or something?"

"Hell no."

I cocked my eyebrows at her, and she cocked hers right back.

"Massage therapist?"

"Nope."

"Hmmm, running out of options here."

"I'm not really sure this trip is long enough for you to guess what I do."

I sat up, nice and slow, and her hand slipped down my back and into her lap.

"Maybe we'll have to continue this conversation on dry land sometime."

A most glorious smile lit her face from one side to the other. "Did you just ask me out?"

"I think I did."

"So...is that your move?"

_My ferry girl had sass! _I cracked a smile. "Yes. Throwing up is my signature move. How's it working so far?"

She did that bug-under-the-microscope thing again, her starburst eyes studying my smirk before she answered. "You have my attention."

"I should probably clean up a bit. Any chance you'll still be here when I get back?"

"Where am I gonna go?"

I chuckled and grabbed the used bag between my feet. "Okay, fine, but don't go rubbing anyone else's back while I'm gone. Deal?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, that playful smile still in place. "We're exclusive now?"

"Mmhmm. Be right back."

Every second away from her was even more torturous than before. I scrubbed my hands in the sink and chewed half a pack of breath savers. I splashed cold water on my face and did the best I could with my sweatball of a shirt. Oh well. I clattered up the stairs two at a time and put on the brakes just before I reached her chair. I must've held my breath the entire time, but there she was, exactly as promised.

She squinted open her eyes as my body threw a big shadow across her face.

"Feel better?"

"For now."

"You gonna get sick again?"

I shrugged. "Probably."

"That sucks. You ever take anything for the motion sickness?"

"Can't while I'm working."

"What about the patch?"

I shrugged again.

"Have you tried the acupressure wristbands?"

"What're those?"

"C'mere."

I stepped closer and set my wrists in her hands. She found some pulse point on the inside of both wrists and pressed with her thumbs. "How's that?"

"Mildly pleasant, but only because you're doing it."

She chuckled a little. "So, why'd you take this job if you get seasick?"

"Ironic, right?"

"I guess that's one word for it."

"Honestly, I didn't know until after we were already here."

With her holding my hands and talking to me, it was kind of easy to forget it was more medicinal than intimate.

"We?"

"Yeah, me and my two brothers, uh, _frat_ brothers."

"Oh, you're a college boy, are you?"

The "boy" chafed, especially since I wasn't exactly at my most macho. "We're all seniors at Williams College. Emmett and Jasper are inside—the bartender and the first mate."

She chuckled. "And you're out here on cleanup duty."

"Pretty glamorous stuff, I know. Six trips a day, six days a week, eight weeks as of today!"

"You've been doing this for eight weeks? You know, there are plenty of other jobs on the Cape or Vineyard you could've taken!"

"I'm not a quitter!"

Our eyes locked, and I wondered if I owed her an apology for being so harsh.

"Neither is my dad." She had more to say, but I wasn't sure she would. I kept my mouth shut just in case. "He's slipping away. Cancer. Sometimes the good fight just isn't enough."

_Fuck. _

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. We had our hospice meeting today. At least I know he's not alone when I can't be on the island."

I had a million questions I wanted to ask her. _Where was her mom? Was she an only child? How long had her dad been sick? What kind of cancer? Was he in pain?_ _How much longer did they think he would live?_

My tongue banged against my teeth in frustration. None of those questions would help. My need to know everything about her would have to wait.

"Hey," I said instead, though it made my gut twist in a new and painful way, "do you want me to leave you alone?"

She looked up with tear-filled eyes. "No, not really. It's kind of nice to talk to someone for a change."

"Wish I would've met you sooner."

"No, that's okay. The water usually soothes me."

I took a cautious peek over my shoulder. Her pressure thing must've been working. "You always ride backwards?"

"Yeah. Kind of trying to hold onto the past right now." She bit the inside of her cheek, and I pretended I didn't see her fighting the tears.

I hated that she was holding me instead of the other way around, but it might have been too soon for a hug. I wasn't sure where back-rubbing-while-barfing stacked up in relation to hugging.

"I think I get it," I finally answered. I probably didn't, but I _wanted_ to. I wanted her to be able to talk to me about it and find some kind of comfort.

Her gaze was fixed on her thumbs. Against my suntanned skin, her fingers looked even paler, nails unpolished but neat, and something else—sturdy. Not delicate, rich-girl soft, but something much more substantial, the kind that belonged to a girl who would fake-barf to save my job.

"Excuse me! Help?"

Oh, shit—or rather, vomit!

The reality of my job was rearing its ugly head. A couple my parents' age was huddled at the rail, and the man was waving me down for all he was worth.

"Hey, I gotta go. If I don't make it back to you again, would you..."

Jesus! Would she _what? _ Where the hell did I think we were, in some black-and-white movie with violins and happily-ever-afters? I didn't have time for this. My puker was about thirty seconds from blowing.

Miserable beyond comprehension, I pulled my arms away, another million questions left unasked, this time for good.

"Go!" she ordered. "I'll wait for you on the dock."

"You will?" _Smooth move._

"You asked me out, or have you already forgotten?"

"Of course not." _Now? _Okay, then! The _Island Queen_ would have to make her last round trip of the day without me.

She smiled at me, showing off her perfect, almost-perfect teeth. "Hold your nose. It helps."

**^MAGNETIC NORTH^**

I flew from one end of the deck to the other, grabbing stray water bottles and wadded up napkins and anything else that wasn't nailed down. I owed the Steamship Authority one last cleanup—but once I caught sight of Bella, an angel backlit by the headlights of cars queuing up for the next run to the island, my career as a crewmember came to a screeching halt.

Skipping down the steps to the lower deck, I ducked under the service counter and tackled Emmett behind the bar. He nearly crushed me with a hug when I told him about my date.

"Good for you, man. I knew you could do it." I saw the respect in his eyes. Maybe it was there all along, and I just wasn't able to see it until I stopped feeling like a pussy.

"You'll let Jazz know? I'll meet you guys here when the ferry gets back, and we can all bike home together."

"Yeah, sure. Don't worry. We'll take care of Captain Carlisle, and if anyone retches, I'm all over it. Go! Get your girl."

I'd have to; this was my last chance, our last night at the Cape before driving the three and a half hours back to the Berkshires tomorrow. The summer I'd wished away almost from the start was ending, and my gut filled with a pit of regret.

I jogged down the gangway and only slowed my gait when Bella giggled. "Are you always this happy to get off the boat?"

"Honestly, yes." She side-eyed me, but I wasn't about to spill all my beans at once.

"I know you were just sick and all, but is there any chance you're hungry?"

"Starved! I try to keep my stomach as empty as possible, for obvious reasons."

"Yeah, I don't have much of an appetite when I'm with Dad either…"

"Right." _Nausea and cancer—super romantic way to start off the date! _"Hey, you like Quick's Hole?"

"That's my favorite!"

"Perfect."

Yes, it was. Cold beers and lobster tacos on the restaurant deck with ferry girl, watching the setting sun play hide and seek with the early evening clouds over the Nantucket Sound. Despite everything working against us, I decided life wasn't going to get much better than this moment.

With three blows of her horn, the _Island Queen _pushed away from the dock. Our meter was running, and I was determined to learn as much as I could about the beautiful girl beside me, starting with how she spent her days when she wasn't visiting her dying father.

"I'm going to guess kindergarten teacher."

"What? Me? Nooo."

"Okay, give me a second here to put all my clues together."

A half-smile appeared, but it wasn't enough. "What clues?"

"Oh, let's see." I set my beer bottle down onto the tin high-top table we were sharing, leaning forward to close the gap between us as much as I could manage in our long-legged chairs. "You're exceedingly kind and obviously beautiful—though I doubt that has much to do with your occupation, it's a nice bonus…"

"Oh brother."

She gave nothing away while I ticked off sweet, smart, and loyal.

"You smell like brown sugar…"

_Aha! _That got the double eyebrow pop, and I'm sure I gave her the same in return.

"Please don't tell me you're a baker or something, because I will be in love before we even get started here."

She dropped her chin into her hand and slid her elbow along the table until it just bumped into the fingers wrapped around my beer. "Hmmm."

"Oh no! I'm doomed."

"Only if you like cupcakes."

"Are you shitting me? Who doesn't like cupcakes?"

We spent the next ten minutes talking about cupcake flavors, owning a shop on the cape, and the joys of hiring and firing. I tried to pay attention, but I couldn't help noticing her arm didn't move away when I slid my knuckle down to her elbow, then back up, then down again…and yeah, experiment complete.

The conversation flowed into the real pressing issues: Gummy bears or Swedish fish? Mint chocolate chip or coffee Oreo? Apple pie or strawberry shortcake? Every dilemma was another inch we scooted closer; more of her touched more of me. By the time we got to vampires or zombies, we had a full-on footsies game going under the table.

Time was running out, and the beer was starting to loosen my tongue—at least, that's the only explanation I could come up with for what slipped out of my mouth next. "I can't believe it took me the whole summer to finally work up the courage to say hello to you."

She gave me a sad smile. "To be fair, I wasn't really looking for company."

"The thing is…I really like…red velvet cupcakes."

"Is that right?" Her smile was growing.

"Yes, that's a true story."

"Huh. What are we gonna do about that?"

"I was thinking…Williams is only a few hours away…and maybe I could make a trip back sometime…if it's okay with you…y'know, to try out one of those red velvets."

"I suppose I could save one for you…if you told me you were going to be stopping by the shop."

"I guess you better give me your phone number." In my head, Emmett rolled his eyes so hard it made me dizzy. _Smooth move, Popeye._

"I guess I should." _Take that, Bluto! _

She fished one of her business cards out of her wallet and slid it across the table. I knew I'd never been happier in my whole life. That's when I saw the _Island Queen_ on the horizon. The promise of seeing Bella again was all that kept the weight from crushing my chest.

"Listen, I know this is a little quick, and it's been a weird day, to say the least, but I just can't ride back to school tomorrow without knowing if you taste as good as you smell." _Okay, that sounded better in my head. _ "May I…kiss you, Bella?"

She leaned in closer, so close it was impossible to see her lips without going cross-eyed. There was only one word I needed to hear, and she was merciful enough to say it. "Yes."

Despite the beer and the creamy cilantro slaw and the Frank's hot sauce, Bella tasted sweeter than anything I'd ever tasted before. I made sure to get a good, long taste just to be sure. When I finally pulled away, a loud sigh filled the space between us.

"Now I have a new problem," I confessed. "I know what I'll be missing."

She dropped her gaze. "So come back soon."

As the ferry pulled in, I made a point of reassuring her I would do just that. Little did either of us know, our reunion would be just two short weeks later.

My heart nearly stopped when I saw that I'd missed her call, and I cursed coach's rule about leaving cellphones in the locker room during practice. Bella and I had only texted up to that point, so I knew it was bad before she even picked up. Her sad, "Hey," was all I needed to hear to know her father had passed.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Bella."

"Yeah." I could hear her fighting back tears.

"Are you alone?"

"No, I'm talking to you."

I smiled despite myself. "I'm here." _And you're there. So damn far away._

"So, I have a huge favor to ask you."

"Anything."

"I know how you love boats…"

"Yes, of course I'll go with you."

"You will?" That infinitesimal lift in her mood was enough. Fuck my stomach! I'd chuck a million times if it would take away even a tiny bit of her pain.

"Absolutely. When do you need me?"

"Now…" Her soft sigh nearly broke my heart. "…but the funeral is on Thursday, eleven a.m. We'd need to take the 9:45 ferry. With traffic, that would mean leaving campus around 5:30. Ugh, you probably have classes—"

"Done."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. Meet you at the dock?"

"Sounds good. Thank you, Edward. It means so much to me."

"I'm honored you asked."

Two long, text-filled days later, my bleary, early-morning eyes found Bella waiting in "our spot" near the gangway. Coffee in one hand and bakery box in the other, she brightened when she saw me.

"I have your ticket."

"Bella, you didn't have to do that."

She ignored me and pushed the coffee into my hand. "Breakfast of champions."

I peered through the clear plastic lid of the white carton. "Are those…?"

"Mmhmm."

"You didn't have to do that either." _Shit. _"I don't think I should eat anything. You know me and boats."

"Oh, wait! Here, hold this a sec." She dug into her purse and pulled out a small plastic container. "I got you the wristbands."

"Hmph! Does this mean you're not going to hold my hand?"

"_ALL ABOARD FOR THE 9:45!"_

"No," she responded as we fell into line, "it just means I'm going to do it right this time."

I couldn't argue with her plan. Still, when she led me to the stern, my stomach rolled with anxiety. "Is there any way I can coax you to ride on the bow today?"

The sun kissed her cheeks as Bella lifted her chin toward the sky. She closed her eyes behind her sunglasses and pulled the ocean air into her lungs. She was deciding on a whole lot more than a seat on a boat, and I respected the moment though it felt like a lifetime before she answered.

"With you next to me, I think I can."

I reorganized the coffee and cupcakes so I could hold Bella's hand while we picked out two seats toward the middle of the bow. We didn't talk much, lulled by the rumble of the engine and the splash of the waves against the side of the boat. Bella was lost in her thoughts, and I was knuckle deep in the best red velvet I'd ever tasted and thrilled that the wristbands were working. Halfway through the second cupcake, I convinced Bella to take a few bites. When we'd both had enough, we licked the crumbs off our fingers and held hands again.

This seat beside this girl on this boat that had been my nemesis all summer was now exactly where I was meant to be. An intense calm washed over me; I had found my direction. The wind rearranged our hair as the boat relentlessly parted the deep, blue future in front of us.

**^MAGNETIC NORTH^**

**Hugs and kisses to Ladyeire for this gorgeous banner, but even more for helping me work out the plot line and figure out how to tell this story in such a short space. As always, my bottomless gratitude to Chayasara for her mastery with words, most especially the ones she uses to gently cajole me when she knows the ending isn't quite right. *wink* Hope you all enjoyed the story! XXX BOH (aka Kaye P Hallows if you're looking for my published work or my facebook page)**


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